


Check

by sceawere



Series: Checkmate [3]
Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Anglo-Saxon, Canon Disabled Character, F/M, Marriage Proposal, Political Alliances, Romeo and Juliet Nonsense, Royalty, Strategy & Tactics, War, but there is a battle aftermath, it's not really violent, so i thought i'd tag up just in case, that has blood and gore mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-21 23:11:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14295507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sceawere/pseuds/sceawere
Summary: Once the endgame is reached, pieces must often be sacrificed for the victory. What will the Queen do?





	Check

The ground was sodden underfoot. The mud had been churned up by boots and wheels and hordes of men battling. Bright pools of blood lay in the hollows, growing as they progressed deeper into the field. More men lay here too, and you slid about them, grasping your dampening skirt hems up about you as you pushed on through the scatter of bodies.

The corpses made for a morbid forest, trunks laying where they fell, mottled and twisted from the storm. Some lay with their eyes open, leaking their death breaths from their lungs, which were often pierced with snapped off arrows, pointing high to the sky.

You tried not to look at their faces but in your haste to move across the field you found yourself having to pay attention to the footing you took. Limbs lay like brambles, tangling up the ground, making your progress slower than you would have liked. Your breath heaved from the effort and the worry and you buckled over, hands braced at your knees, eyes to the earth.

A sword lay in sight and you followed the spattered blade up to the hand that held it. It was slack around the grip and half buried in the slop around it – probably stood on at some point and flattened into it in the chaos. Your eyes flicked to the face that was half turned to stare at you. The baker’s boy, eyes muddy as the ground, and paler than you ever knew him. A scan around him showed his brother laying but a few feet away, arms reaching. They’d died together at least.

Your stomach rolled and churned – it wasn’t the first death you’d seen, not even the first battlefield you’d travelled, and yet something about this one set your skin alight. You righted yourself and rolled your spine so you faced the lowering sun. It was still high enough that it gave sight but had reached a point in lowering that it spread out flat across the land and made you squint and turn away from it. Yet it was better to look at it than what it lay on.

The open graves lay out for near half a mile around you – thinning out as the hill began to roll and the trees began to sprout. Scraps of fabric from flags and torn shirts caught up in the breeze and fluttered around like petals in spring. It was eerily quiet, almost peaceful, to an extent, and a soft fog lay in the air. It caught the sweat on your skin and chilled you through. A number of men were up and walking through the mess, looking for men still alive, dead brothers and sons, collecting up what weapons could be salvaged. Others lay with their knees in the dirt, weeping over those they’d found.

“My lady” a hand caught your wrist and you turned to meet them.

“Aethelwulf” your voice was breathy as you pulled him towards you, arm flying around his shoulders, the other caught tight between your chests.

“Jesus, you shouldn’t be here” he sounded weary but he held you close, weaving his fingers through yours and pressing his lips to your forehead.

“I had to find you, I had to find Alfred”

He hummed against your head.

“Still, I prefer you where it’s safe”

“You’re not where it’s safe” you argued.

“It’s not my job to be safe, sister” he moved his hands up to frame your face and pushed you back “it’s my job to protect you, and to fight”

“How was it? How…is it over?”

His eyes were framed in flecks of crusting blood, and they looked as weary as he sounded. He stared you down with a flat look that showed the thoughts behind them and you sighed.

“They got away – enough of them at least, the brothers” he spat the last words out and let his hands fall to your shoulders, rattling them and squeezing.

“But we know where they camp, and we know them well now, and we shall root them out, sister, be sure of it”

“Where’s Alfred?” you whispered, not able to meet his eye. It should have been over today. It should have been over three battles ago. And yet these heathens came back each time, running rings through the countryside, battling like demons. It seemed for every one they slew, another took its place.

“I haven’t seen him yet – I lost him in the….he was battling last I saw him, don’t fret. It’ll take more than a band of pagans to take him down”. He tried to make the tone light, joking, but it came out hollow and you bristled.

Keeping you face to the ground, you rolled your eyes up to peer through the lashes.

“They’ve taken down a thousand men”

His eyes had darted across your shoulder mid speech and you faltered a time before fully turning to where he looked.

Up on the hill, a cluster of men stood, far enough up that you couldn’t make them out entirely clearly. You could see the colours of their shields though, could make out some shades of hair and the difference in their height. And you knew one from the others for he sat in a chariot while the others stood. You felt sick with yourself at the relief that washed over you.

Aethelwulf kept his eyes up on the hill but he moved his arm back to you.

“Go”

“Are they going to attack again?”

“I don’t know, they were gone for-” his wrong hand moved to his sword, stepping in front of you, though he knew full well it would take mere minutes for them to reach down here and so it was more to comfort than protect. A guard sent up a shout, a warning, and the men scattered over the field took notice of being watched. They stood and began to move into a huddle in the centre of the field.

Corpses lifted wearily from where they stood and it took a few shaking moments to realise many of those you’d thought dead in the distance were really resting. Bodies laid against trees moved to action and you felt yourself shuffle back a few steps, jumping forward again when you trod against something. Thankfully, a clumped up flag and not a body but it was all enough to rattle you again and the comfort you’d found in being re-united with your brother fled quickly.

“Lord Iden, would you take my sister back to the village. I entrust her safety to you, on your head”

“I’m not going until I find Alfred!” you screamed back.

“And what will you do if they come down here?”

“Tell them the same thing I’m telling you, if I must, and if they were going to come down, they wouldn’t have waited until you were all watching, would they?” None of the men turned or looked at you, though Iden stood at your side and his hand rested half out in the air, ready to grab you and make off should the situation turn.

“I should think they would like to take advantage of you all lying about, half armed, and knackered, than give you enough time to reform”

“Maybe that’s the plan though” You didn’t recognise the voice and it could have come from any of the couple dozen heads that lay ahead of you “Let us settle, then strike us back up. They did it to the first army, span them in circles and made them dizzy. When they thought they were done, they were at it again”

“Well…we’ve had enough time to argue about it, and they’re still stood up there enjoying the sun so I think little of their plan, if I’m honest”

As you spoke, the horse that pulled the chariot began to turn and as it sped off the other men turned to it and began to trickle off behind. Your heart leapt as they disappeared over the horizon but you settled yourself, at least glad there would be no more bloodshed.

“See, there” no-one dared so much as twitch until they were entirely over the ridge out of sight, “they just wanted a last look at their efforts, that’s all”.

* * *

 

She’d been there, at the field. He was sick of playing this game, getting so close, only for the pieces to shift once more. Today was supposed to be the battle that ended everything. That cleared the way for them to push into the lands fully and take down their camp. He had dreamt of it, the victory, holding her in his arms. He realised he’d never fully held her, no more than her hand, and it made him burn.

He should be King by now, she should be Queen, and it should be done.

He headed straight for the main tent when he got back to camp, paying no mind to his brothers shouts.

“Ivar, we must rest if we-“

“We must plan, we must strike. Now is the time, while they are weak. We do not rest!”

He was going to finish this.

* * *

 

“We should meet with them”

Every head at the table turned to where you were stood, at the opposite end to your brother. You had one arm wrapped across your belly, the other lifted to stroke across your lips as you considered the map before you.

“Discuss terms” you continued.

“Have you lost your senses?” someone asked.

“Sister, as much I support your interest, I must agree with the Lord. Have you taken leave-“

“Fighting isn’t achieving anything but feeding the ground more corpses to swallow. They have taken five points already-“you stepped forward to slam your hand on the map, pointing out the recent changes in marker “that we considered either well enough defended or entirely apart from their plan. Can you not see they are trying to encircle us?”

“We have already come to this conclusion, princess” the Lord spoke up.

“Then why are you continuing with a broken plan?” you sneered.

You turned your head to your brother.

“Aethelwulf, please. We have tried the sword, I think it is time to send in the scholar, no?”

He lifted his arms to weave his hands together at a point, elbows resting on the table. He tucked his chin into his hands, considering the map, before returning his eyes to you.

“Who would you suggest we send?” he asked.

You rocked in place for a moment, breathing in deeply before speaking.

“Me”

* * *

 

“They’re coming”

The brothers sprang up, grabbing at their weapons as the messenger burst through the cloth into their tent.

“No, not the army. We think it’s a woman. And a…priest. It’s hard to tell the difference from a distance”

The men looked about each other confused, tucking their swords into belts slowly.

Ivar grabbed for his crutches, making haste out of the tent and across the camp towards where a crowd was gathering. He broke through the gaggle to see the small band of horses approaching, surrounded by a guard on foot. It was her. She was here. Delivered herself. He growled at the stupidity, as much as his chest sang at the sight of her.

She dismounted, taking long strides towards them. She stilled a distance away, safe. He swung forward and caught her eye. Her eyes bore into him, nothing like he’d ever seen her do before, and he smirked at the fire there. She wasn’t as soft as he had left her. Good. She was learning.

“Ivar” she greeted, tone firm.

“Princess” he smirked.

She tilted her head, blinking deliberately. She turned back to wave over the priest, a monk he now saw, not the same as he had known before. He took the moment to show off his new skill to her.

“Where is our old friend? Hmm? Too scared to visit?” he nodded towards the new monk.

She turned back to him, face flat. Not the reaction he’d wanted.

“Dead. At Ashdown. He was trying to treat one of the wounded men you left behind when they awoke and stabbed him through the throat”

He sobered at this, shifting his grasp slightly. He lowered his eyes for a moment. This was not going well.

“Why are you here?”

“To discuss terms” she replied.

“Giving up so quickly?”

“It’s telling that you equate the two, Ivar. No, not to give up. To discuss the terms that we may find peace. You have more than enough land to settle, gained more than enough treasure to satisfy even the greediest among you, and you’ve certainly spilt more blood than I’m sure this land has ever seen”

She was doing well, head held high, voice even and commanding. He was proud of her.

“On that, I commend you. But I have my people to think of. This land is my home, these people my family. You have a land and a people of your own. Let us discuss the terms that they may coincide”

“Why would we want to do that, when we are winning?” Bjorn asked beside him. Ivar turned his head to him, annoyed that he’d interrupted them.

“Who say’s you’re winning? You heathens truly are presumptive, are you not?” she teased, hands clasping together.

He tucked his tongue to the roof of his mouth, smirking back at her.

“No one wins until it’s over. Until then, there’s always another move to be made. The balance can always change, as long as there are pieces on the board. Ivar knows this, I beat him from behind enough times. He gets comfy in his victory and forgets to consider other possibilities. Arrogance will be your downfall”

“And what will yours be?” Bjorn asked.

“Pride. But here I find myself with you, so it doesn’t look like I’m failing anytime soon”

* * *

 

He sat opposite you at the table and you were doing your best to avoid his eye. You could feel them burning into you and it was unsettling. You’d planned to play on your relationship but now you were here it was becoming harder to stay level headed. You didn’t have a solid plan coming in, only a skeleton on which to negotiate depending on their demands. Your confidence, or at least the façade of it, was your main power and it was wavering under his gaze.

“We can’t allow that” you explained.

“Why not? We already own everything up to the river” his brother replied.

“The river is the issue; the lower kingdoms will be very uncomfortable with any arrangement that allows you easy access to the internal waterways. What would stop you from sailing down into their territory at will?”

“Nothing” another brother spoke up, Hvitserk you thought, though you were still confused which was which.

You turned your head to him, flattening your expression.

“That reaction is why we cannot allow it. We’d be starting a war to settle one. You’ll have to settle for your border beginning at the hills-“you drew a line a few miles in on the map “and stretching around the land here”

“What is the point of having farmland with no water access?”

“There are an abundance of ponds, lakes, small tributaries. Nothing good enough to sail on but surely enough for sustenance. That is your goal, is it not? To settle and farm?”

“It is” the older brother agreed.

“We’re a sea-faring people” you turned your head to another of the men at the table, one you didn’t recognise “we need to be close to our ships”

“Then you should have stayed at home where your docks are” you teased with a bright smile.

You saw Ivar settle back in his chair and risked a glance in his direction. He was smiling wide, almost laughing. Enjoying himself far too much.

“We will take it”

You swung your head over to Bjorn, surprised he had relented that easily. Thank the Lord for Ragnar’s mission, aiding you from beyond the grave.

“Excellent. Next point of bargain” you settled back.

“Alliance”

Everyone turned to Ivar as he spoke for the first time during the negotiation. His face was serious now.

“We need to secure the alliance. To ensure peace and keep the claims protected”

You nodded, eyes travelling over the table and back, not sure how to approach this.

“Yes, that is important. What would you suggest? I think a public legal ceremony which-“

“You” he cut in.

“Me?”

“Yes”

“What…about me?”

He paused for a moment, his brothers all looking as confused as you felt.

“Marry me”

Your stomach fell to the floor and the air left your lungs. His brothers broke out laughing, the men around him doubling over almost.

“I am serious”

They shut up quickly, turning to him with looks of almost disgust on their face. They began to discuss in their own language and you cursed that while they could understand you, you couldn’t do the same. Ivar was becoming more animated as he explained himself to them. They all looked over to you before Ivar turned back across.

“You are a Saxon princess, the daughter of the man who ceded us our land, the sister of the man who fights against us. You have a claim to the kingdom, power over the people who would not accept us. If I, a prince and ruler of this land, from my people, were to marry you, with all I have just said, it would end the war. It would cement our alliance” he motioned between you with gloved hands.

“Why the fuck would I marry you?”

The words were out of your mouth before you even thought of them - before you could consider propriety. You didn’t know what you were feeling. This was Ivar, the man who had haunted you from the second you met him. The man who visited in your dreams. The man whose symbol you wore even now, against your heart. But not like this. Not like this.

He looked upset for a moment before the fire was back in his eyes.

“Because I will make you a Queen of a land you hope to save. It will bring peace to our kingdom and fulfil my father’s ambition and one day, ours as well. Because the Gods have brought us together for a reason”

He’d thought this out. The fucker had thought this out. While you’d been distracted with the war and your father, and everything else. He’d been looking at the whole board, the wider game.

He wasn’t wrong. This was a good solution. It’d worked before. Judith and your brother had worked. At least politically. But you didn’t want their marriage. Not the way they’d done it.

You thought about what your father had said – about promise and pain. Whoever you married, it would be political. At least with Ivar you had a chance at someone you actually wanted.

And you wanted him. Just not like this.

He would give you a kingdom to rule as you wished. But not like this.

You had the chance at forging an empire together, of becoming a leader like your father had wished for you. But not like this.

You’d promised yourself you’d make choices from now on. You’d promised your father you wouldn’t shrink. But of course, this was a choice. He wasn’t forcing you. He hadn’t said ‘because you have to or else’. He’d laid out the path before you. You didn’t believe in his Gods, not in a literal way. But you’d thought over it yourself. How you’d been brought together. How your father had spoken of him, and his love for Ragnar, and how he wished it had all happened another way. Maybe it was meant to. Maybe you were meant to cement this alliance.

“I want a contract” you insisted.

Very romantic. But if he wanted you to be a Queen, you had to act like one.

He lifted a brow, settling back in his chair. He opened his arms, gesturing with his hands for you to continue.

“I want it assured, in writing, in law. I want your promise not to raid the lands. I want a section of land in my own name, aside from our marriage, of my choosing. That way if you cast me aside, I will have-“

“I won’t”

“If you keep interrupting me, we won’t have a very productive relationship, Ivar”

He smirked back at you, licking his lips.

“I won’t be your wife alone. If I’m Queen, I’m Queen. You understand that means I won’t be silent and shadowed? You want me to rule, I’m ruling”

He lifted his hand to rest against his chin and tilted his head.

“This is a partnership, not an ownership. You’re going to respect me. You’re going to consider what I say as much as you would another advisor. If you break your promise, if you hit me, if you do anything I consider a breach of-don’t interrupt me!”

Ivar rolled his tongue around, pausing from where he’d moved to speak. He was enjoying himself again.

“I retain the right to void the agreement and dissolve the marriage. Understood? I’m sure the Church will be more than happy to aid me in freeing myself from being bonded to a heathen, you wouldn’t stand a chance of keeping me”

“Understood” he agreed, eyes burning.

“Good”

The men at the table looked as though someone had struck them and you rolled your eyes around their faces, a smile pulling onto your face. You swung your head back to finish your demands.

“If you kill my brother, I’ll kill one of yours” you meant it as a tease, a joke to lighten the nerves but he smiled wide, that stupid proud look on his face again.

“Do I get to pick which one?”


End file.
